Shelter From The Storm
by Holly Gilmore
Summary: In starting over, we could get some place different. - What if Lorelai had found her way to Stars Hollow before Rory's birth?
1. Fear

**Title: ** _Shelter From The Storm._  
  
**Summary:** _"In starting over we could get some place different."_ What if Lorelai had found her way to Stars Hollow before Rory's birth?  
  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters of Gilmore Girls. I am in no way connected to Gilmore Girls or the WB. I also have no connections to Billie Letts or Twentieth Century Fox. This story idea is mostly my own, although it is inspired by the movie/book _Where The Heart Is_. (I always thought that there were several similarities between Lorelai and Novalee) 

**Authors Note: ** This fic starts about a month before Rory is born. In places I may skip ahead a few weeks, months or even years. This fic is still a work in progress and I will definitely still be making _**Next, on Gilmore Girls...**_ my priority.   
I want to thank **LukeLorelai4EVER** for supporting the idea of this fic when I first asked her what she thought of it. And thanks to everyone at stars-hollow.org who has read and reviewed this fic and been so positive about it. *hugs* 

*~*~*~*

_"Our lives can change with every breath we take." - Novalee Nation - Where The Heart Is_  


  
  
  
It had started out as an adventure. He had honestly believed that it wasn't going to change his life as much as everyone told him it would. Maybe things would have to change a little, but why couldn't it be for the better? This was something new and it was apparently one of life's miracles. It was something to be celebrated and enjoyed, not something to fret and worry over.  
  
Although it may sound it, he wasn't unintelligent, or even naïve really. When she had told him he was going to be a father, he'd looked at it in the same way his father looked at a new business venture. It was an opportunity.  
  
It was a baby.  
  
It was just like a puppy, right? Sure, it didn't have fur. And ok, so maybe it'd be a little more clingy and needy. And it'd definitely be more expensive. But at the end of the day, he could leave it with the nanny and go back to his friends. No, things wouldn't have to change much at all.  
  
He'd asked her to marry him. It was what their parents wanted after all, and he really did love her. He had often thought that they'd be married one day, anyway. After they had graduated from high school they would probably go their separate ways, and enjoy their college experiences to the full extent. Without having to deal with the responsibility of each other. He would go to Princeton and she would go to Yale, the way her father had always hoped she would. And one day, probably when they were fresh from college life, their paths would cross again at some social gathering. Their eyes would meet across the room, and memories would engulf them. They would reminisce every rebellious act committed together. They would still feel the excitement of every clandestine kiss in a quiet corner at a dinner party. They would see clearly, all of the late nights on the balcony of her bedroom.  
And they'd realize that in their many years apart, they had never experienced anything as electrifying and passionate as their relationship with each other.  
  
He was certain they would have been married one day. The baby just gave them a reason to move a little faster.  
  
But she never actually accepted the proposal. They would sit and listen to their parents plotting their futures out for them, and her expression would darken. Her eyes would glisten with tears and assume a far away look. This wasn't her place and these were not her plans. She was never supposed to be the flawless debutante her parents had wished for. She was never meant to settle down, or settle at all.  
  
The procedure they insisted she follow had never sounded as appealing to her as it did to him.  
  
He'd never gone with her to the doctor's appointments. She'd never asked him to. She'd never asked him for anything. That was, until she had asked him to get her out of there. Out from behind the walls around her parent's home. Insurmountable walls, that seemed to grow higher with each day.  
  
Out of that world where all she was and all she did was frowned on, where she could no longer breathe.  
  
So they had packed some clothes, and some of the many items purchased by her parents for the baby, and they'd fled. They had some money, but not much, and they weren't sure where they were going. He thought that maybe they'd go to California. He'd always wanted to go to California. Maybe they'd get an apartment overlooking the ocean. Just them.  
  
And a baby.  
  
Now, something in him snapped. It had happened suddenly. Too suddenly for him to pin point the exact moment it had started. The only thing he could pin point was the emotion coursing through him at that moment. Fear.  
  
They had been thirty minutes from Hartford, when she had declared her urgent need to use a bathroom. Those needs were becoming more frequent and more urgent with every passing week.  
So they'd found their way to the nearest town, and driven around looking for somewhere that seemed as if it might have a public restroom. They had eventually come across an Inn. He couldn't remember its name.  
  
As he watched her pick her way through a group of businessmen, and up the steps to the building in front of her, all he could think about was how wrong he'd been. A baby was nothing like a puppy! What was he thinking? Clingy and needy were understatements, to say the least.  
He was only 16. He wasn't ready to be a father. He was going to fail, and Christopher Hayden never failed. It wasn't in his genetic code. It wasn't something he'd been taught to do, or something he was familiar with. The closest he'd come to failure was the day he'd gotten his Chemistry exam back and found a big red 'D' staring him in the face. This wasn't a Chemistry exam.  
  
It was a baby.  
  
It was a tiny person. A person who would be depending on him to feed, clothe and bathe it. A person he had to raise and take care of. How was a child supposed to prepare another child for the world? He wasn't even prepared for the world himself!  
  
He could feel the moisture on his fingertips as he opened and closed his hands around the cold steering wheel in front of him. His palms were sweating. Itching.  
  
They would be better off without him. If he knew anything, he knew that.  
  
He continued to rationalize and justify his decision as he unloaded her belongings and the baby's things. He pulled out his wallet and hastily transferred half of its contents to her backpack.  
  
This was better for her. Better for him.  
  
Better for the baby.

_To be Continued..._


	2. Gone

**Title: ** _Shelter From The Storm._  
  
**Summary:** _"In starting over we could get some place different."_ What if Lorelai had found her way to Stars Hollow before Rory's birth?  
  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters of Gilmore Girls. I am in no way connected to Gilmore Girls or the WB. I also have no connections to Billie Letts or Twentieth Century Fox. This story idea is mostly my own, although it is inspired by the movie/book _Where The Heart Is_. (I always thought that there were several similarities between Lorelai and Novalee) 

*~*~*~*

She wasn't sure why she trod on one foot with the other while bobbing up and down outside of the bathroom stalls. Maybe the pain of breaking her own toes was supposed to take her mind off of her desperate need to use the toilet. It was one of those automatic, unexplainable things she'd picked up in life. She was sure it probably wouldn't be considered lady like, but that had never really bothered her before.  
  
She hated being told that something she was doing wasn't lady like. If a man could do something then so could she. Not lady like to sit with her legs uncrossed? That wasn't exactly fair. While her legs went numb from sitting on top of one another, a man could sit as comfortably as he liked and have no one comment. Life wasn't fair.  
That's why she was sixteen, seven and a half months pregnant and bouncing around in the bathroom of an Inn she couldn't afford to stay at.  
  
She was practically homeless. The thought made her pause and frown for a moment. She shook her head to try and dismiss the idea, banging the palm of her hand on a nearby stall door to distract herself.  
  
"People are dying out here!" She whimpered anxiously and a lot less demandingly as she had been aiming to.  
  
The only response she received was a rather disgruntled sigh. She could almost hear the woman rolling her eyes.  
  
Homeless.  
  
"Neun und neunzig luftballons, auf i.. ih…" She furrowed her brow and bit her lip pensively. "Ihr…" She sighed and relented. "Ninety Nine red balloons, floating in the summer sky. Panic bells, it's red alert…"  
  
The flush of a toilet cut her soft and out of tune singing short, and she hastily shuffled her way over to the stall it had come from. No one was getting this stall before her. No one. It didn't matter that she was the only one waiting. If someone happened to come into the bathrooms at that moment, she would be ready for them. She wasn't going to give up her stall without a fight. Her eyes darted back and forth between the door and the stall.  
  
Door. Stall. Door. Stall. Whimper. Stall. Door.  
  
"Did you fall in?!" She exclaimed impatiently, banging her hand on the door.  
  
A few moments later, the stall door swung open in a swift and sharp movement that conveyed, in no uncertain terms, how annoyed and disgusted it's occupant was with this pregnant teen, rudely demanding that people vacate their stalls mid bodily function.  
  
She shot the girl a look, more of a glare, but said nothing. She was nudged out of the way by a pregnant belly as its owner pushed her way into the stall and fumbled to lock the door.  
  
The sighs and moans of relief coming from the stall in the subsequent minutes brought about more eye rolling and sounds of revulsion as the lady washed her hands and dried them on a handful of paper towels.  
She considered staying there until the girl was finished, so that she could berate her for her bad manners. But a moan slightly louder than the others quickly changed her mind, and she hurried out of the room, as if just being there made her as filthy as the person responsible for the noises.  
  
While she washed her hands, the young girl glanced up into the large mirrors in front of her, the small spotlights overhead making her feel like a movie star in her dressing room.  
But her reflection reminded her that she was far from being Rita Hayworth or Audrey Hepburn. She was far from glamorous.  
Her hair needed washing, she noted. Her mother would weep if she could see how her only daughter, her only child, looked right at that moment.  
She tugged her hair up into a high ponytail, smoothing it back with her hand and turning her head from side to side to see if it looked any better. She pouted slightly as she concluded that it made her face look fat.  
  
If her face was fat, she didn't know what word she should use to describe the rest of her. Just looking at her large belly made her cringe.  
She understood that carrying a child meant just that. She was carrying another human being inside of her, so naturally she'd gain weight. But she didn't have to like it. She was just thankful that she was no longer in what she referred to as the 'pig phase'. Where she didn't look pregnant, she just looked fat. And therefore, would earn herself strange looks as she feasted on a mountain of ice cream. It didn't look like she was eating for two. It simply looked like she was overeating for one.  
  
She ran her free hand over her belly and looked down at it. She had tried talking to it a few times, but she'd come to the conclusion that it really couldn't understand her frustrations with her parents until it had actually met them. Part of her never wanted it to.  
  
It. Boy or Girl? She hoped it would be a girl, although she wasn't entirely sure why. She suspected that Christopher wanted a boy. Another Hayden male to go out into the world, command and conquer.  
The only thing she knew was that she wanted to give this baby the childhood she never had. The freedom she'd never experienced. The openness and honesty she displayed but was scolded for. Her child wouldn't be scolded for being the only person it could be. Itself.  
  
The bathroom door opened abruptly, and she let her hair fall loosely around her shoulders again. The woman who had just entered the room glanced at her briefly once. And then again, a little longer the second time, to be sure she was really seeing what she was seeing.  
It didn't faze the young girl anymore. She had grown accustomed to the surprised and disapproving looks she received in public.  
  
She looked around the lobby quickly, hoping no one would notice her. It was a bit much to ask that, in a room full of well dressed adults, a pregnant teen in sweat pants and an oversized sweatshirt wouldn't stick out like a sore thumb.  
If she could only get over to the door without anyone stopping her, then her mission would be accomplished, and no one would ever need to know that she wasn't' a guest or a customer of any kind. That she'd snuck in to use the bathroom that she assumed was only there for the use of guests.  
  
Taking a deep breath, she hurried determinedly across the elegantly decorated lobby, dodging antique end tables and random guests, her eyes to the ground to avoid meeting the inquisitive eyes of anyone else.  
  
Her journey was interrupted as she collided with someone, or something, sending a pile of folders and paper to the floor in a flurry of white and manila.  
  
"Oh, I'm dreadfully sorry!"  
  
Keeping her eyes to the ground, the girl did her best to reach down and help collect up the spilled contents of the folders. She mumbled something about being sorry, but refused to make eye contact with the person she had almost knocked to the ground.  
  
"I do hope I didn't hurt you? You or your baby?" The voice inquired softly and sincerely.  
  
"No." The girl assured quickly, pushing her hand down against the polished wood floor to give her the boost she needed to stand up straight again.  
  
The hand at her elbow, helping her, came as a surprise. But she didn't fight it. Something told her she didn't need to.  
  
"I'm so sorry about this. I really should watch where I'm going. Things are just so hectic around here today…" The woman continued with a soft chuckle.  
  
"It's ok. I wasn't looking where I was going either. And I'm clumsy. Very clumsy." The girl babbled, as she looked everywhere she could except for at the kind face of the woman trying to make polite conversation with her.  
  
"I'm Mia."  
  
She nodded.  
  
"Nice to meet you. I'm L… " Should she be giving out her name? "I'm leaving."  
  
She brushed past the woman quickly and made a beeline for the exit.  
  
"Well… nice to meet you." Came the voice from behind her.  
  
She waved over her shoulder as she pulled the door open and stepped out onto the porch, sucking in oxygen as if she'd been holding her breath the entire time she was inside the building.  
  
The group of businessmen she'd passed on her way in had dispersed and she was grateful she wouldn't need to navigate her way through them again. Her eyes surveyed the parking lot.  
  
Once. Twice. Three times.  
  
She frowned and looked over her shoulder in confusion. She wasn't sure why. It wasn't as if the car would be parked on the porch of the Inn, but since it wasn't in the parking lot anymore she didn't know where else to look.  
  
Suddenly, she could feel her heart beating in her chest. It felt strange. It made her feel weak and lightheaded. She placed her hand over it, trying to dull the feeling. It seemed to make it pound that much louder in her ears. As nausea set in, her breathing quickened and she swallowed hard to dislodge the gasps caught in her throat.  
  
She tried to steady herself as she stumbled her way down the porch steps and out into the parking lot. She looked around her.  
  
Once. Twice. Three times.  
  
She stood in the center of it and turned in a full circle. Only serving to make her feel that bit dizzier. She wished for something to hold on to, scared she was going to fall over.  
  
Where was the car? Where was Christopher?  
  
Maybe he'd gone to get gas. Or… maybe he'd gone to the market they'd passed earlier. He had said he was hungry…  
  
As her eyes alighted on a small pile of bags where the car had once sat, she realized that neither of those explanations were real. It didn't stop her from repeating them over and over as she approached the bags. But in her heart, she knew.  
  
He had left her. He had left them.  
  
She sunk down onto the small grassy bank beside her belongings, wrapping her fingers around the straps of her backpack and pulling it slowly towards her.  
The tears rolled slowly down her cheeks as she stared at the backpack in disbelief, her breathing shallow and staggered.  
  
Now what?


	3. Ambushed

**Title: ** _Shelter From The Storm._  
  
**Summary:** _"In starting over we could get some place different."_ What if Lorelai had found her way to Stars Hollow before Rory's birth?  
  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters of Gilmore Girls. I am in no way connected to Gilmore Girls or the WB. I also have no connections to Billie Letts or Twentieth Century Fox. This story idea is mostly my own, although it is inspired by the movie/book _Where The Heart Is_. (I always thought that there were several similarities between Lorelai and Novalee) 

**Authors Note: ** Thank you to the people who have already read and reviewed this fic. I'm glad you seem to be enjoying it and I hope I don't disappoint with the upcoming chapters.

*~*~*~*

Put one foot in front of the other. That's what she'd told herself when she was sure that standing was even an option. One step. Two step. The rest would take care of itself.  
And so she had started to walk an aimless path. The grounds of the Inn were larger than she'd thought they would be. If she hadn't been so concerned with walking, she might have stopped and admired the pond for a while. Any other day it would have been beautiful to her. But today nothing was beautiful or in any way pleasant. Nothing made sense and everything felt dark and cold and heavy. Air pressed down on her and the grass felt sticky, holding her feet down and making it hard to move.  
But she had to keep moving. She was going… somewhere.  
  
The flapping of wings and the honking of a swan as it took flight caught her attention. She turned and observed it thoughtfully, wondering where it was going and why she couldn't join it. Why she had no wings to spread and fly away.  
  
She considered that maybe she should just go home. Maybe, if she left then, her parents wouldn't even know she had run away. But as thoughts of why she had run from them in the first place flooded into her mind, she knew that going back was not an option. Although, what her options were, she wasn't entirely sure. Curling up in a ball and waiting until the world went away seemed appealing.  
She was numb. She was alone now. She was getting tired of walking to nowhere. She was… hungry.  
  
Her hand moved to her swollen belly, gliding over it and trying to silence it. She didn't know how she could be hungry at a time like this. She didn't want to eat for fear it wouldn't stay down. But she wasn't the only person she had to think about. There was _it_. The baby. Her baby. Even if she didn't want to eat for herself, she needed to eat for the life growing inside her.  
  
At least walking back into the town they'd passed on their way to the Inn gave her a direction to go in, she just hadn't realized how far it actually was. It probably only seemed like a long distance because she was carrying another being. She was doing everything for two, including surviving. And it occurred to her that she probably would be for the rest of her life.  
  
As she wandered down what she assumed was the main street in the town, she tried to take in things that might be useful later. She couldn't be sure how long her stay there would be, but she imagined that knowing where different places were couldn't hurt.  
  
She paused in front of one store, gazing at the bright lettering on the window for a moment. 'Stars Hollow Books'. So that was the name of this place? Stars Hollow. It was certainly different from Hartford. Just like the rest of the town, the store looked warm and inviting. She peered over the curtain rails that occupied the bottom third of the windows and considered going inside and looking around. But a rumble in her stomach reminded her not to get sidetracked. Books weren't going to help her much in her current situation. Not unless someone had had the foresight to write a book called 'The Idiots Guide to Being Abandoned'.  
  
How could he just leave her there like that? Her anger, sadness and confusion propelled her forward at a slightly faster pace. She couldn't understand how he could be so irresponsible! So thoughtless! So selfish! 

So… Christopher. 

She sighed deeply, the thought slowing her down again. Maybe she should have seen it coming. It could quite possibly be all her fault for expecting too much from him. After all, He was only sixteen. 

But she was only sixteen too! She balled up her fists and her brow furrowed. Passers by glanced at her oddly, wondering who or what she was so angry at. What were they looking at? Hadn't they ever seen a pregnant teenager with a petulant scowl before?  
  
Looking around her she concluded that no, they probably hadn't.  
  
She felt as if she was being followed, the bell above the market door jingled when she pushed it open, and the sound rang out like a signal to anyone who wanted to come and see this strange young creature. She wanted to shrink away into a corner and hide until they were all gone. Deciding to try and keep a lower profile she hurried over to the nearest aisle and busied herself looking at the first thing she could lay her hands on. Just trying to be invisible or to at least stop looking out of place.  
  
As she browsed the aisle in search of a food item that looked appealing, her eyes were drawn to a figure examining her from the end of the aisle. It was a middle-aged man in an ugly cardigan, and she suppressed the urge to shout 'pervert' at him. It was clear from his expression that he wasn't ogling her, not in that way, and that he was more curious than anything. Besides, shouting at strangers probably wouldn't help her efforts to seem as thought she belonged there.  
Trying to ignore him, she turned her attention back to the food in front of her. But she could feel him looking at her. She shuddered involuntarily, her body making an attempt to shake the feeling of being watched.  
  
His gaze was soon joined by another. The whispering and hushed bickering that followed were too much for her to ignore. There was a woman there now. Heavy and dressed in brightly colored clothes that cried out for attention. She and the man in the ugly cardigan were talking about her, she could tell. And whatever their opinions of her, they seemed to differ.  
She wanted to be out of there, so she quickly took some tea cakes from the shelf and walked over to the checkout. Her mother would never have let her have tea cakes. Not ones that came wrapped in plastic anyway. But her mother wasn't around and, for the first time, she would have no say in anything her daughter said or did.  
  
The young man at the cash register looked only a few years older than she was, and as he rang up her purchase he barely even looked at her. He mostly stared straight ahead and conveyed an expression of pure boredom.  
  
If it hadn't been for the large woman blocking her exit, she would have left the store without a second glance. But there the woman stood, beaming.  
  
"Hello. I'm Patricia LaCosta." She stated in a voice that made it clear she was trying hard to impress. "But you can call me Miss Patty if you like."  
  
"Hello."  
  
"Are you new in town?"  
  
"Just um… just passing through."  
  
"Oh." Disappointment laced Miss Patty's tone. "That's a shame. We're always happy to welcome newcomers around here."  
  
The girl glanced over her shoulder at the cardigan man, who was trying to hide in the bug spray aisle and still get a good view of her. He didn't seem all that welcoming to her.  
  
"What's your name sweetheart?"  
  
"I shouldn't say."  
  
"Oh, come on. We're all friends in these parts." Miss Patty pressed. "I should think it's something pretty. A pretty name for a pretty girl?"  
  
The girl shrugged and looked away.  
  
"Just a first name, dear. In case I see you again, so I'll know what to call you."  
  
She couldn't give out her name. Not even her first name. If her parents came looking for her and everyone in the town knew her name then they would have no trouble finding her.  
  
"I have to go."  
  
As she stepped past Miss Patty and opened the door, her backpack knocked over a stack of tin cans and sent them cascading to the floor. She froze in the doorway, one foot in and one foot out. The part of her desperate to get away from the stares and the questions wanted to run. But the part of her that occasionally listened to her mother's lectures about being polite and well mannered brought her back into the store.  
  
"Look at this mess!"  
  
"Oh now, Taylor, don't get yourself all worked up. Accidents happen." Miss Patty exclaimed as if she were talking to a child.  
  
"This one is dented!" The man held up a can for inspection. "I'll have to mark the price down now."  
  
"Sorry." The young girl mumbled, eyes downcast.  
  
"Taylor!"  
  
Taylor rolled his eyes at Miss Patty's reprimanding glance.  
  
"Fine, fine." He conceded reluctantly. "I'm sorry."  
  
His apology was less than sincere, almost mocking in fact. And now both sets of eyes were back on her again. She dropped her backpack on the ground beside her and struggled to squat down and help pick up the cans.  
  
"Oh, honey. Don't you worry about that."  
  
Miss Patty took her by the arm and pulled her back up into a standing position before reaching down and picking up her backpack for her. Printed on the top rim of the bag, in her mother's clear and controlled penmanship, were the words 'Property Of Lorelai Victoria Gilmore'.  
  
Well, that did it.  
  
"Lorelai?" Miss Patty looked from the bag to the girl. "Is that your name?"  
  
"I have to go." Was the only response Miss Patty received before the girl snatched her bag and hurried out of the store.  
  
"Well!" Taylor puffed his chest out like a rooster before it crows. "In all my life, I have never…"  
  
"Oh be quiet, Taylor." Miss Patty shook her head and made her way to the door.  
  
"What about my tomatoes?" He called after her in agitation, pointing at the tins on the floor.  
  
"Do what you want with your tomatoes. Just keep them away from me." She smiled at her own innuendo and exited the store.  



	4. Smashed

**Title: ** _Shelter From The Storm._  
  
**Summary:** _"In starting over we could get some place different."_ What if Lorelai had found her way to Stars Hollow before Rory's birth?  
  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters of Gilmore Girls. I am in no way connected to Gilmore Girls or the WB. I also have no connections to Billie Letts or Twentieth Century Fox. This story idea is mostly my own, although it is inspired by the movie/book _Where The Heart Is_. (I always thought that there were several similarities between Lorelai and Novalee) 

**Authors Note: **Voting for the **Literati Fanfiction Awards **has started! You can vote by going to Milo Ventimiglia Boards (there is a link in my profile).

*~*~*~*

It was growing dark by the time Lorelai made it back to the Inn. She wasn't sure why she had returned there. A small part of her hoped that Christopher would come back for her. A bigger part of her felt safe there. But she couldn't afford a room for more than one night, so where she was going to sleep was a mystery to her.  
  
She considered talking with Mia and explaining her situation. The woman had seemed kind. Maybe she would take pity on her and let her stay there for free. More likely, Lorelai thought, she would call the cops. Or worse, her parents.  
  
No. This was something she was going to have to figure out by herself.  
  
Sitting on the bank of the pond, Lorelai pulled small pieces off of the teacake in her hand and popped them in her mouth. Every so often she would throw a piece to a group of ducks nearby and watch them fighting over every last crumb. It took her mind off of the question of how she was going to get back up again. She could always very gracefully roll onto her side and push herself up. No one was around to see her if she did.  
  
But even if she did manage to get back on her feet, she had no idea where she was going to spend the night. It was getting colder as the evening progressed and she knew that sleeping outside wasn't really an option.  
That's when she saw the small white building across the pond. It looked like a shed or a very small guesthouse of some kind. Whatever it was, it had a roof and could therefore be considered shelter. And at that moment, she couldn't ask for more.  
  
Upon closer inspection Lorelai discovered that it was a guesthouse being used as a tool shed and, from the look of it, it was a rarely used tool shed. The exterior was kept clean and looked well maintained, which she assumed was for the benefit of the guests as they enjoyed the rest of the grounds. The inside was a different story.  
Relieved to find the door unlocked, she gave it a gentle nudge with her hip to open it far enough to allow her, and her swollen belly, access.  
  
With night falling swiftly it was hard to make out shapes in the dark, and there didn't seem to be a light switch anywhere near the door. She cautiously stepped further inside, brushing a cobweb from her face and hair and shuddering at the thought of a spider or any insect being anywhere near her.  
Going against her fear of arachnids, she reached her hand out in front of her and approached the large rectangular object leaning against the wall to her left. She pressed against it and it pressed back with a defiant creak. It was a mattress. A lumpy and noisy mattress, but she was grateful for it all the same.  
Walking from one end of the mattress to the other she used her foot to make sure there was nothing on the floor around it before grabbing the top edge, pulling it towards her and then taking a quick step backwards to watch it fall. She took another step back to avoid the cloud of dust and dirt that billowed up into the air and seemed to stay there. She wondered how many cobwebs it must be clinging to, sending another shudder throughout her body.  
  
As she looked around her, a lump formed in her throat. How had she ended up here? That same morning she had been sitting in her bedroom, surrounded by china dolls with eyes that followed her around the room, and a dollhouse she had outgrown years ago. She missed her bed. Although strewn with sheets far too frilly for her taste, it was comfortable and she felt safe there. Now her bed was a mattress that had been sitting in an abandoned guesthouse for a length of time she didn't even want to think about, collecting enough dust to give her mother a stroke. And this was what she wanted for her baby?  
  
It was the thought of her unborn child that pulled her out of her self pity and reminded her what it was she did want for her baby. A life different from her own. And it couldn't get much different from where she stood. And so, after a few deep breaths and silent words of encouragement to herself, from herself, she continued to make her way around the guesthouse, her hands telling her when something was blocking her path. Until her knee bumped into something cold and hard and she had to reach out the steady herself.  
When she looked down to see the thing in her way she thought her eyes were playing tricks on her. But the longer she stared at it, the more her eyes adjusted, and she became more sure that it was a bathtub. It was full of. something. Something soft in a plastic bag. But it was a bathtub. And she let out a soft chuckle when she turned the faucet and, after a splutter, it let out a steady flow of water.  
  
She had a bed, a bath and a roof over her head. And in the morning she would have light enough to see what other surprises awaited her. But at that moment all she wanted to do was crawl onto her dusty mattress and dream that she was somewhere else.  
  
Even though she was tired and her body ached, sleep didn't come as quickly as she expected, and instead she found herself lying on the unyielding mattress and thinking of Chris. Wondering where he was. She wasn't sure if she hated him. A large part of her wanted to, but she also understood why he had left her. He was scared. She was scared too, but she didn't have the option to leave. For a moment she wondered what she would do if she did have that option, but then quickly pushed the thought from her mind. She felt terrible even wondering 'what if'. And it was pointless to do so.  
* * * * *  
  
The birds on the pond outside had woken her at a ridiculously early hour. Squawking at each other constantly until she realized it wasn't going to stop. In the morning light, Lorelai was pleased to find that a working toilet accompanied the bath. Which she could now see was full of bagged compost, gardening tools and old flowerpots.  
It would need cleaning before she could use it. As she looked around, she realized that the entire guesthouse would need cleaning if she was actually going to make it her home. The only problem with cleaning was that it was something she had little to no experience with. The only room in the house she had ever cleaned was her own room. And it wasn't cleaning so much as putting away her belongings and clearing surfaces so that the maid could do the actual cleaning.  
  
After making a mental note of what she would need to clean and clear, she started on the long and tiring task of turning what was essentially a tool shed into her new home. She stacked flowerpots in a corner and propped larger gardening implements against the back wall, stopping every few minutes to rub her lower back and catch her breath.  
  
It was while she was clearing the random gardening supplies from the bathtub so that she could clean it, that she dropped one of the flowerpots and watched in horror as it smashed on the floor. Not only did it represent more cleaning, it made her feel guilty. Before, she had been able to explain away her actions as necessity. She needed somewhere to stay. She wasn't hurting anyone by sleeping in an abandoned shed. But now she was breaking someone else's property.  
Slowly kneeling down, she began collecting the larger pieces into a pile, fighting back tears. She felt silly and girly, crying over a broken flowerpot. She knew it was more her hormones than anything else, but it made her even more frustrated at herself and the situation she had put herself and her baby in.  
As she gathered the shattered pot into a pile, a sticker on a piece of its base caught her eye. It had a barcode and a price, and a name. '_William's Hardware_'. That seemed familiar. She tried to recall where she'd seen that name before, closing her eyes and trying to picture it. The grumbling in her stomach interrupted her thoughts and she gave in to it, finding her backpack and pulling the last teacake from it's plastic wrapping. It wasn't going to quell her hunger, but it would give her the energy to go back into town and buy something else.  
* * * * *  
  
Making her way back through the streets of Stars Hollow, she noted how different it was from the neighborhood she had come from. Stars Hollow was smaller, but busier. It seemed that every resident of the town spent all their time milling around the town square and talking. And when they talked, the really talked. They stopped and gossiped and laughed, rather than simply calling out insincerities like 'we must have dinner soon' and 'give my love to Biddy!' as they passed on the street.  
  
"One, two, cha-cha-cha."  
  
Lorelai looked up to where the voice had come from. The sign above the door said 'Miss Patty's'. _Miss Patty_ Her brow creased into a frown and then her eyebrows shot up. Miss Patty was the woman from the market! Holding her hand up to the side of her face in hopes of getting past her without being noticed, Lorelai quickened her pace. She had almost succeeded, and had she been looking where she was going she might have made it past without even a second glance from Miss Patty. But with her eyes downcast she didn't see the man in front of her until she had walked right into him.  
  
"Hey, watch where you're going!" He barked at her.  
  
"I'm sor."  
  
"Sorry? Damn kids, you're always sorry for something! Did you ever stop to think that if you respected others you wouldn't need to be sorry every five minutes?"  
  
"I."  
  
"Louie, you leave that poor girl alone!"  
  
Lorelai closed her eyes and sighed at the sound of Miss Patty's voice.  
  
"Patty, I'm handling this, so if you would be so kind as to butt out!" Louie sneered.  
  
"Don't talk to me that way, you horrible little man!" She snapped back.  
  
"If you wouldn't stick your nose in where it's not wanted, I wouldn't have to talk to you at all! And that would be fine by me, I assure you!"  
  
"I really am sorry." Lorelai said quietly.  
  
Soon realizing that she was completely forgotten by both Louie and Patty, she saw her opportunity to slip away and did so unnoticed.  
  
"Louie, if you dropped dead tomorrow I would be the first to dance on your grave!"  
  
"I wish you wouldn't. It'd be a shame to have my final resting place disturbed by a damn earthquake!" He taunted, unable to resist a small smirk in place of his scowl.  
  
"Why you little.!"  
  
As Miss Patty made her way down the steps outside her dance studio, Louie stood his ground, straightening his back and holding his chin in the air. Lorelai glanced over her shoulder as she hurried down the street. She felt bad for leaving when she was the cause of the argument, but it didn't look like it was their first fight, so she tried telling herself that they probably would have exchanged not so nice words whether she had been there or not.  
When she finally slowed her pace, she looked up to see '_William's Hardware_' right across the street from where she was standing. At least if she could replace the flowerpot she had broken she could rid herself of some of the guilt she felt.  
  
There was a small bell above the door that jingled to signal her entrance. She cringed. To the owner it was the sound of a new customer, but to her it was just one more person to be aware of her presence. She stood in place of a minute waiting for some middle-aged man to come over and ask her what she was looking for. But when no one appeared, she slowly proceeded into the store. She must have tripped some kind of silent alarm, because as soon as she reached the first row of tools she heard a voice.  
  
"What do you want?" It demanded.  
  
"I um."  
  
"What?"  
  
Lorelai frowned as she strained her neck, trying to see who or what the voice belonged to. She thought she saw movement, someone coming out of a door at the back of the room and disappearing behind a large display of hammers.  
  
"I was looking for a pot."  
  
"What kind of pot?"  
  
"A. a flowerpot." She started uncertainly, trying to get a better view of the person she was speaking to.  
  
"What kind of flowerpot?" He sighed impatiently. "Big, small, round, square, ceramic, plastic, polyceramic, terracotta, wooden, metal.?"  
  
"Well, what kind do you have?" She cut him off before he could continue with his list.  
  
"Plastic, ceramic or terracotta."  
  
"Well then why bother asking me if I wanted any other kind?"  
  
"Because, if you were pretentious enough to want any of the others I could have told you to find a garden center, or a florist. Or a Wal-Mart."  
  
"Hey!" She protested. " I am not pretentious!"  
  
Finally stepping out from behind the display, the owner of the voice made his way over to her, his head bowed, not making eye contact. He was taller than her, and at least a few years older. His dark hair stuck out from under the edges of a baseball cap. She followed him over to a shelf stacked with flowerpots.  
  
"I don't see the one I want."  
  
"Oh, shame." Was the sarcastic and only response she received.  
  
"Look. I broke my. friend's flowerpot. And I know she got it here. And I need to replace it."  
  
"Well if it's not on the shelf then we don't carry it anymore." He explained, as if he were talking to a child.  
  
She felt tears stinging her eyes and silently cursed herself for being so over emotional, especially when she wanted to appear strong and self assured.  
  
"I." She swallowed hard. "I just need to replace the pot. It was white and. it had purple grapes painted around the edges with a green vine."  
  
"Sounds beautiful." He mocked.  
  
"Listen, screw boy, I am a customer! And the customer is always right! And even if I weren't a customer, I would still be right because I am always right! So either help me, or point me in the direction of someone with a slightly higher IQ who can help me!" She snapped.  
  
They stared at one another for a moment. She tried to keep her face as straight as possible, and balled up her fists so he couldn't see her hands shaking.  
  
"I'll check in back." He muttered.  
  
As soon as he had disappeared into the storeroom behind them she let out a shaky break and placed her hand over her heart. She smiled slightly as she thought of what she had said, how it had sounded. So thought out and demanding, when really it came out of nowhere and surprised even her. She felt as if she had been channeling her mother.  
  
When he reemerged carrying a flowerpot identical to the one she had broken she resumed her straight face. He held it up for her to see and she nodded in approval before following him over to the cash register.  
She watched him wrap the flowerpot in brown parcel paper and put it in a plastic bag and then she handed him a ten-dollar bill.  
  
Another man appeared in the store, coming from a different doorway. He was older than the man serving her. His hair graying and his face wrinkled with a mixture of frown and laugh lines. He glanced over at her and offered a small smile, which she returned before accepting her change and picking up the flowerpot.  
  
"Have a nice day." The younger man said sarcastically, a fake smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.  
  
"Oh, you too." She muttered, leaving the store as quickly as she could and reminding herself never to break another flowerpot.  
  
The older man walked over and watched her leave.  
  
"Another satisfied customer?" He smiled slightly, glancing over his shoulder at the younger man.  
  
"She started it."  
  
"Luke." He warned.  
  
"Dad, just leave it." He sighed.  
  
The older man held his hands up in surrender and walked over towards the storeroom.


	5. Clean Slate

**Title: ** _Shelter From The Storm._  
  
**Summary:** _"In starting over we could get some place different."_ What if Lorelai had found her way to Stars Hollow before Rory's birth?  
  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters of Gilmore Girls. I am in no way connected to Gilmore Girls or the WB. I also have no connections to Billie Letts or Twentieth Century Fox. This story idea is mostly my own, although it is inspired by the movie/book _Where The Heart Is_. (I always thought that there were several similarities between Lorelai and Novalee) 

*~*~*~*

Lorelai spent the next few days cleaning the guesthouse. She washed old rags in the bathtub until they were as clean as she could make them, and then she used them to clean the rest of the room. Eventually, the dirtiest thing in the guesthouse was her, and trying to blame the smell that followed her around on something else stopped working.  
  
She needed to take a bath and wash her clothes. But she didn't have laundry detergent or towels or soap. She could force herself to make another trip into town to buy soap, shampoo and detergent, but she didn't know where she could get towels.  
  
As she stepped out of the guesthouse on her way back into town, she heard the sound of an engine and the beeping sound of a truck backing up. Sure enough, just a little way away from her, a delivery truck was backing up towards some double doors. The logo on the side of the truck read 'New England Linen Supply'.  
Lorelai stayed close to the building and watched as it stopped and the driver got out and opened the back doors. He was starting to unload his delivery when the doors behind him opened and a tall lady in a maid's uniform approached. She handed him a cup and saucer and he drank from it as they talked and laughed. After a short while he followed her into the Inn and the doors closed behind them.  
  
It was a sign. It had to be. She needed towels and sheets and sitting right in front of her was a linen delivery truck with its doors wide open and no one around to witness her take anything. But could she bring herself to take something? Was it stealing if she planned to one day return it or reimburse someone for it? She needed it. She wasn't sure if bad hygiene would affect her baby, but it seemed that anything that affected her could potentially affect the baby also. So why take the risk? Realizing she was wasting time, she glanced around to make sure that no one was looking and quickly made her way over to the truck.  
  
Inside it were large metal cages on wheels, brimming over with towels, sheets and table linen, all separated into neat, plastic covered bundles. She reached in and carefully opened one of them, pulling out some sheets and tucking them under her arm and then grabbing the nearest bundle of bath towels. Trying not to drop them, she hurried back to the guesthouse and shut herself inside, watching from the windows to see if they would notice anything missing.  
It was another fifteen minutes or so until the driver came back out to his truck, still talking with the linen maid who looked physically too old to be working, but seemed just as energetic and cheerful as someone twenty years her junior. He unloaded the large metal cages and helped her maneuver them into the Inn. She signed something and they waved to each other before he got back into the truck and left. Neither of them seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary and Lorelai sighed with relief. Now all she needed to do was brave another trip to the market.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The market seemed to get bigger and more intimidating with each visit. Even thought she liked to think she was tough, she found herself dreading going into a small town market to buy shampoo. She feared the watchful eyes of the owner, who she assumed was named Taylor Doose, from the fact the market was called 'Doose's Market' and the fact that Miss Patty had called him Taylor.  
He followed her with his eyes, and when she was out of sight he would move around the store, hiding in the aisles and pretending to count tinned fruit, when really he was spying on her.  
She hurried down an aisle filled with hygiene products, everything from soap to hair spray. She found a bottle of shampoo and added it to her basket, which already contained a small bottle of detergent. She'd often wonder who would bother buying those small bottles when the larger ones would last them longer. But after trying to lift one of the larger bottles, she decided that they bought the smaller size to avoid back injuries.  
  
"Hey."  
  
Lorelai almost dropped a bar of soap as she transferred it from the shelf to her basket. She turned to see who was talking to her.  
  
"Oh." She sighed. It was the man from the hardware store. "It's you."  
  
"Yeah… I just wanted to apologize…" he began, rubbing the back of his neck.  
  
"For what?" She raised an eyebrow at him. "Being rude? Or unhelpful? Or both?"  
  
"I see you're still upset about the other day." He smiled slightly, hoping he had lightened the mood. Her lips, pressed together in a thin line, told him that he hadn't succeeded.  
  
"All I wanted was a flowerpot. It wasn't like I was asking for world peace or even… tickets to a Go Go's concert!"  
  
"You like the Go Go's?" He smirked.  
  
"But you were mean!" She continued, ignoring his comment.  
  
"Mean?"  
  
"Yes, mean! You made it seem like I was asking for the moon on a stick. Which I realize would have been a lofty request since the stick is obviously rammed way up your butt!"  
  
His mouth hung open as she turned and walked away. She bit her lip and tried to stop herself laughing out loud. She couldn't believe what she had just said, or that she had the courage to say it. She had always had a quick wit and, when needed, she could speak her mind. But ever since she had found out she was pregnant she had become less outgoing, more unsure of herself. Her mother had probably seen that as a silver lining of some kind.  
  
When he had finally recovered from his surprise enough to realize she was leaving, he hurried over to the checkout.  
  
"I know I was rude. That's why I'm apologizing." He explained, but she didn't respond. "I was having a bad day. A bad week, actually..."  
  
"Don't talk to me about bad days." She muttered, accepting her change from the check out girl and picking up her bag of purchases.  
  
He noticed that she struggled with it a little and he reached out to help her. She looked at him warily for a moment before releasing her grip on the bag and letting him carry it for her. He opened the door for her and followed her out onto the street.  
  
"Where are you headed?"  
  
"Um…"  
  
"Do you have a car?"  
  
"No." She sighed. "I'm staying at the Independence Inn."  
  
"Oh…" He frowned and looked down at the bag, wondering why a guest at the Inn would need to buy detergent and soap. He decided it was better not to pry. Instead, he started making his way in the direction of the Inn.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"I'm helping you carry your things back to the Inn."  
  
"But… I didn't ask you to." She pointed out uncertainly.  
  
"I know."  
  
"You don't have to do this. I didn't ask you to do this." She continued anxiously.  
  
"Don't worry. I'm not expecting you to pay me or anything." He chuckled, amused by her neurotic behavior.  
  
Lorelai watched him cautiously as they walked, wondering why he had suddenly decided to be polite and helpful. She wasn't used to people switching from one extreme to the other so quickly. Her life had always been filled with people who were set in their ways. If they were rude to you one day, it was safe to assume they would be rude to you the day after that and the week after that. And if they were kind then they would probably be kind to you most of the time. What you saw was what you got. Something told her that this man wasn't going to be so easy to read.  
  
When they reached the Inn he handed her the bag and she smiled uncertainly.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"No problem. I'm Luke, by the way." He offered almost hopefully. "Luke Danes."  
  
"Is that other man William?" When she saw his frown she smiled. "The sign says '_William's Hardware_'…"  
  
"Oh! Yeah, that would be my dad. It's his store, I just help out." She nodded and looked down at the floor. "So, uh… do you have a name?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Is it a secret?" He smiled and she smiled back even more.  
  
"No. Not exactly." She chuckled. "It's kind of a 'need to know' thing."  
  
"Well, who needs to know?"  
  
"It's Lorelai. My name is Lorelai."  
  
"Lorelai." He nodded.  
  
"Well… goodbye, Luke. And thanks again."  
  
"You're welcome. Maybe I'll see you in town again sometime?"  
  
She smiled and nodded and he took this as his cue to leave. When he was out of sight she walked away from the porch at the front of the Inn and made her way back over to the guest house, eager to take a bath and rest on her clean sheets, the very thought of it made her beam.

**A/N:** Sorry if I rambled about the linen delivery. I was a room maid for 2 years. *waves to Jane, the elderly but energetic linen maid*


	6. Shelter

**Title: ** _Shelter From The Storm._  
  
**Summary:** _"In starting over we could get some place different."_ What if Lorelai had found her way to Stars Hollow before Rory's birth?  
  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters of Gilmore Girls. I am in no way connected to Gilmore Girls or the WB. I also have no connections to Billie Letts or Twentieth Century Fox. This story idea is mostly my own, although it is inspired by the movie/book _Where The Heart Is_. (I always thought that there were several similarities between Lorelai and Novalee) 

*~*~*~*

In the weeks that followed, Lorelai became bolder and more poised when walking through Stars Hollow. Although she didn't relish the idea of talking to Miss Patty, she no longer tried to hide her presence. And when she was spotted, she would stop and make polite conversation about the weather and how near Christmas seemed and how big her belly had grown. Even Taylor Doose's prying eyes didn't irritate her anymore. One day she had even turned around and stared directly at him until he'd made huffing noises and scurried away.  
  
Not all of her trips into town were made out of necessity though. She had tried to tell herself they were, and that she wasn't just hoping to talk to Luke again. It wasn't that she had a crush on him. She didn't like him like that. But he seemed like he could be good company. Someone to talk to about things less inane than how cold it had been that week.  
But the day she had stopped by William's Hardware and bought a box of nails, just so she could talk to him, she knew she had to stop pretending she was there for any other reason. Even Luke had to know she didn't _need_ a box of nails.  
  
It had started to snow in Stars Hollow earlier that week, and it was making her trips back and forth more difficult. Knowing she was there to see him, Luke made an effort to keep her in the store for as long as possible, offering her a drink or trying to make small talk so her visit wouldn't be pointless.  
  
She sat on a wooden stool by the cash register, cradling a mug of hot chocolate in her hands and letting the steam warm her face. She was so cold that she couldn't feel her nose.  
  
"Look at that." Luke gestured over to the window. "They're practicing that ridiculous autumn procession." He shook his head as he scribbled some things down on an order form.  
  
"What autumn procession?" Lorelai asked, shifting in her seat to get a better view.  
  
"It's this dumb thing the town does every year. They find a bunch of idiots with enough free time to traipse around in silly costumes. Last year, Pumpkin number five fell on a patch of ice and broke his leg."  
  
Lorelai struggled to stop herself from laughing out loud, but the look of amusement on Luke's face made it impossible.  
  
"You shouldn't make fun of your neighbors, Luke." His father warned, unable to keep a smile from his own face.  
  
"Sorry, dad."  
  
"Sorry Mr. Danes."  
  
"Luke, how many times do I have to tell this young lady to call me William?" He chuckled as he walked over to them.  
  
"I don't know. I'm not her spokesman. Why don't you ask her?"  
  
Both men turned to look at Lorelai questioningly and she shifted her gaze from one to the other.  
  
"I'll try and remember, Mr Danes." She smiled. "Sorry, I meant to say William."  
  
"That's better!" He urged. "'Mr. Danes' makes me feel like an old man. I've still got a few years left in me yet!"  
  
"Of course you do, dad."  
  
"Now, Lorelai, how about some dinner?"  
  
Lorelai and Luke looked at each other in surprise. She hadn't been invited to their home for dinner before. She would just show up at the store and Luke would idly offer her a drink and she would pretend to be surprised that her would ask, and they would talk until one of them noticed the time or that it was getting dark out, and then she would leave with the promise to come back soon. Soon usually being the next day.  
  
"I don't want to intrude…" She blushed, trying hard to hide her eagerness to stay a little longer.  
  
"You won't be." Luke assured her.  
  
"I'm making my famous lamb chops and mashed potatoes. Nothing like it." William smiled warmly.  
  
"If you're sure?"  
  
"I'm certain." He nodded for emphasis.  
  
Luke and Lorelai smiled at one another and pulled on their jackets. When Luke noticed that Lorelai had no gloves, he insisted that she take his, even though they were far too big on her delicate hands. They waited while William switched off the lights and locked the doors and then the three of them made their way down the street towards the small house Luke and his father shared.  
  
"I'm going to need to put those Christmas lights up soon." William noted as they walked up to the front path.  
  
"Don't bother, you almost fall and break your neck every year." Luke protested.  
  
"You know Taylor will only gripe if I don't."  
  
"Let him gripe. It's our house. You already agreed to decorate the store windows!"  
  
"It's easier to just keep him happy." William pointed out.  
  
"Fine. But I'll put them up this year." Luke conceded.  
  
Lorelai stamped the snow off of her feet and stepped into the house, taking in the new surroundings. It was much different than her parents home. The walls were covered in family pictures. She walked over to get a closer look, smiling more as she took in images of Luke as a young boy. A photo of him holding up a large fish, a wide gap-toothed grin spread across his face, William stood beside him with a proud hand on his shoulder. There was a photo of them, a woman and a young girl stood outside of the hardware store on the day it opened.  
  
"That's Luke's mother." William said gently, standing beside her and looking at the pictures fondly. "She was a wonderful woman."  
  
"Was?" Lorelai asked quietly. William simply nodded.  
  
"And that's Elizabeth. Luke's big sister, but not by much. The only way to tell she was older was from the way she used to boss him around." He chuckled.  
  
"Does she still live here?"  
  
"She has an apartment across town." He nodded. "She lived in New York for a while but…" He paused, his face darkening, a sad look in his eyes. "She came home a few months ago. She needed to be near her family."  
  
Lorelai wondered what sad event had brought Elizabeth back from 'The Big Apple'. Why a young girl would give up a life of excitement in the city to live in a small town.  
  
"Would you help me peel some potatoes?" William asked, his usual cheerful expression slowly returning.  
  
She nodded and followed him down the hall into the kitchen, where Luke was already getting cooking utensils out of cupboards and draws. He handed her a peeler and she sat at the table in front of a pile of potatoes and an empty bowl. Luke and William watched in amusement as she began trying to peel the potatoes, only managing to gouge small chunks out of them.  
  
"First time with a potato peeler?" Luke teased and she glared at him playfully.  
  
"My parents never let me cook. I wasn't allowed in the kitchen." She laughed softly at the mess she had made of the potato in her hand.  
  
Luke sat in the chair beside her and slowly demonstrated how too peel the potato and Lorelai gradually got the hang of it, proud of the small accomplishment she had made. It made her realize how many small accomplishments she had made in a relatively short amount of time. It was a shame she couldn't share any of them with anyone else. No one could know how she was living, or where she was living.

Luke and William pretended not to notice the keenness with which Lorelai ate her dinner that evening, not realizing that it was the first home cooked meal she had eaten in almost a month. She had tried to remember the table manners instilled in her by her mother, but the smell of the lamb chops had almost been too much to take. She'd forced herself to sit up straight and wait for her meal to be served, rather than reaching out and grabbing handfuls of everything and discarding her knife and fork.  
  
After dinner she had helped Luke wash and dry the dishes while William sat at the table and finished some paper work. Then they had sat in the cozy living room by a fire Luke had finally managed to get going.  
  
"Looks like you're stuck with us." William sighed as he pulled the curtains closed. "It's a mess out there. No way you can get back to the Inn tonight."  
  
"I don't want to be any trouble." Lorelai insisted, walking over to the window to see how bad it really was. "I'm sure I can…"  
  
The view from the window made her forget what it was she had been saying. She could barely see anything outside but snow. If she focused she could make out the shape of the garden fence, but the snow was falling heavily like thick fog, and it was starting to get dark.  
  
"Luke, go fetch some blankets and a pillow. You're sleeping on the couch."  
  
"No. I can't take your bed, Luke." Lorelai protested. "I can sleep on the couch."  
  
"Don't be silly. You're…" Luke gestured to her belly.  
  
"I'll be fine. I'd feel much better if you'd let me sleep on the couch." She pleaded.  
  
Luke looked to his father and William shrugged.  
  
"Ok. But if you can't get comfortable…"  
  
"Thank you." She smiled as he left the room to fetch her some bedding.  
  
The couch was more comfortable than the mattress she had been sleeping on. The moment she lay down she felt as thought she could never get up again. In the warmth of the living room, with a full stomach, Lorelai surrendered to the plush couch and quickly drifted off to sleep.


	7. The Storm

**Title: ** _Shelter From The Storm._  
  
**Summary:** _"In starting over we could get some place different."_ What if Lorelai had found her way to Stars Hollow before Rory's birth?  
  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters of Gilmore Girls. I am in no way connected to Gilmore Girls or the WB. I also have no connections to Billie Letts or Twentieth Century Fox. This story idea is mostly my own, although it is inspired by the movie/book _Where The Heart Is_. (I always thought that there were several similarities between Lorelai and Novalee) 

**A/N:** This was one of the hardest things I've ever written, but I hope you guys enjoy it.

*~*~*~*

It was almost midnight when the pain started. The first pain was sharp and woke her from her dreamless slumber. She placed her hand under her belly and winced, trying to stay calm and resist the strong urge to panic. She tried to figure out what she needed to do. Maybe it would be best to call for Luke or to find his room and wake him up. Or maybe she should just leave. It must have stopped snowing by now and she had heard that labor lasted for hours, sometimes even days. And maybe she wasn't even in labor. Yes, she should just leave.  
  
As she made her way slowly towards the door she felt a strange sensation, almost like something popping and then horror shot through her as she began to feel that she'd lost control of her bladder, but she quickly realized that it was her water breaking and she stood in place until she felt she could move again.  
  
"Not here." She whimpered, leaning against the wall and closing her eyes. "Not now. Please." She looked down at her belly. "Wait, please!"  
  
After a few deep breaths, she composed herself enough to unlock the front door and pull it open. A cold gust of wind hit her, bringing a swirl of snowflakes with it. The snow hadn't stopped or slowed, it had gotten worse. If she left the house she risked getting stuck in the snow and giving birth outside.  
  
She quickly shut the door and tried to come up with a more rational idea. That was when the next pain hit and she reached out to the wall next to her for support, knocking several pictures from their hooks and watching them fall to the floor, the glass in their frames shattering.  
  
"No." She cried softly, struggling to crouch down and clear up the mess she was making.  
  
Another pain worked its way around her belly from the sides to the front. She put her hands out on the floor in front of her to stop herself falling forwards. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to remember that all pregnant women in labor seemed to do a lot of breathing in and out. After a minute or so, the pain subsided and she silently thanked every God and higher power she could, begging them not to send any more pains. She stared at the shattered glass on the floor in front of her, and the small puddles of fluid around them. She had to clean it up, but all her body wanted to do was collapse on the floor and rest. She wished there was a way to sleep through it all.  
  
When she attempted to stand up she felt another pain in her hips and let herself drop back to the floor, digging her fingers into the carpet and biting her lip. If her labor was going to last for days or even hours, she couldn't imagine that she would survive. Not if the same pains accompanied it, or somehow got worse.  
The next pain made her want to cry out and she covered her mouth with her hand, breathing through her nose as best as she could. But eventually she needed her hand back on the floor to support her and the second she moved it away from her lips a wail of pain escaped.  
  
Luke's eyes shot open and he pushed himself up in his bed, wondering if the noise was real or if he had been dreaming. He strained to hear any noises in the house and soon heard a door opening. Climbing out of bed he pulled on the clothes he had been wearing that day and stepped out into the hall just in time to see his father descending the stairs.  
  
"What's going on?" He asked, following quickly.  
  
By the time he reached the bottom of the stairs his father was already crouched on the floor beside Lorelai.  
  
"It's ok." He reassured her gently.  
  
"It hurts, it hurts!" She cried shaking her head as the tears rolled down her cheeks.  
  
"I know. Just try and stay calm.  
  
William looked up at his son, who was staring at Lorelai in alarm.  
  
"Luke…"  
  
"She's not… is she?" He stammered.  
  
"What does it look like?"  
  
"But she can't! Not here!" Luke protested, gesturing wildly with his hands.  
  
"No, she can't. That's why I need you to go and call an ambulance."  
  
"But…"  
  
"Luke!"  
  
At the sound of his fathers raised voice Luke seemed to be shaken from the trance he was in and hurried to find the phone.  
  
"I can't do this. I can't. Make it stop!"  
  
"I would if I could, but unfortunately I can't." He explained calmly, helping her up and letting her lean on him as they walked slowly back into the living room.  
  
"You're hurting me! Stop it!" She commanded to the child in her belly.  
  
"I don't think it has much of a choice. And neither do you." William smiled softly, sitting her back on the couch.  
  
"I'm sorry about the photo's, Mr. Danes." She whimpered. "And the mess on the carpet. I didn't mean to."  
  
"I know."  
  
"They're on their way." Luke announced, as he rejoined them. "But have you looked outside recently? It's going to take them forever to get here in this weather!"  
  
"Lorelai, I have to talk to Luke for a minute. I'll be right back." William explained calmly and Lorelai nodded as she tried to breathe in and out slowly.  
  
William stood and walked over to his son, taking him by the elbow and pulling him out into the hall.  
  
"Luke, that girl is in labor!"  
  
"I know!"  
  
"And your little comments about the ambulance not getting here aren't going to help her."  
  
"I'm sorry, but…"  
  
"I need you to help me keep her calm until they do get here."  
  
"And if they don't?"  
  
William looked from Luke to the living room and then shook his head slowly, walking away without a response. Luke ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath before following.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
Help still hadn't arrived by 2am and Luke paced and panicked silently while William helped Lorelai from the couch to a sheet and some pillows in the middle of the room. He ordered Luke to fetch a cold washcloth as he draped a sheet over Lorelai's legs and helped her get as comfortable as possible.  
  
Luke returned moments later and handed his father the washcloth, which he used to gently wipe the sweat from Lorelai's face as she gritted her teeth against the pain.  
  
"Just remember not to push." He instructed her.  
  
"But I need to. I have to." She almost begged. "It feels like I need to."  
  
"I know, but there are no experts here to tell us if it's safe for you to push. So you need to hang on for as long as possible. Ok?"  
  
"Ok." Lorelai nodded, gripping at the sheet she was lying on.  
  
"Maybe I should go and get someone…"  
  
"Like who, Luke?"  
  
"I don't know. Liz maybe?" He offered desperately.  
  
"She's working nights."  
  
"Well… How about Patty then?"  
  
"No." Lorelai pleaded.  
  
"Babette?"  
  
"Babette Dell?" William seemed to consider this for a while. "She doesn't know what she's doing…"  
  
"And we do? The woman has attended more births than most midwives."  
  
"Yeah, but they weren't human births, they were feline." William rolled his eyes as Lorelai looked between the two of them in confusion and fear.  
  
"Well that still makes her more experienced in all this than us. Besides, she knows all these special… homeopathological remedies… or whatever. At least she may have some idea of how to control the pain." Luke suggested.  
  
"Yes! Stop the pain!" Lorelai nodded vigorously.  
  
"Ok, go and get her. But hurry!"  
  
Luke nodded and hurried into the hall, pulling on some boots and a coat before braving the harsh cold and snow outside. William rubbed Lorelai's back supportively, as she battled the pain of each contraction.  
  
"Tell me something." She begged in between breaths.  
  
"Like what?" He smiled reassuringly.  
  
"Anything…"  
  
"Uh… well…" He paused for a second. "We thought Luke was going to be a girl. He was originally a Lucy, not a Luke."  
  
Lorelai laughed softly through her tears.  
  
"I don't even have a name for my baby." She said, realization of how unprepared she was dawning on her. Hitting her with the force on an explosion. "I don't have anything for my baby."  
  
"Well, lets see if we can fix that, shall we? Now… do you think it's going to be a girl or a boy?"  
  
"It's a girl." Lorelai stated with complete certainty. "Definitely."  
  
"Ok… and what are your favorite girls names?"  
  
She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. "I don't know."  
  
"Sure you do. How about… Anna?"  
  
"No, that's not her name."  
  
"Jennifer?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Emily?"  
  
"Oh God!" Lorelai cried out in pain. "No, not Emily."  
  
"Well, how about your middle name? Do you have a middle name?"  
  
"Victoria."  
  
"That's a pretty name."  
  
"Lorelai."  
  
"What?" He frowned.  
  
"Lorelai. I want to name her Lorelai." She insisted.  
  
"But… that's your name." He smiled and chuckled softly.  
  
"So? Men name their sons after themselves all the time! It's always Edward junior this and Harold the third that. Why can't I name my baby after me?"  
  
"I suppose there's no reason at all."  
  
"Right. So… she's going to be Lorelai. Like me." She nodded.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
It was almost an hour later when Luke returned with Babette, a short woman with curly blonde hair and wide inquisitive eyes.  
  
"Well I'll be…! You really do have a girl giving birth in your living room, don't ya'?!" She exclaimed when she first laid eyes on Lorelai.  
  
"No, I made it all up." Luke shot back sarcastically.  
  
"Thank you for coming, Babette." William smiled gratefully. "This is Lorelai, and she's in a lot of pain."  
  
"Make it stop, please!" Lorelai wailed.  
  
"No kidding she's in a lot of pain." Babette chuckled as she knelt beside her. "Hey sugar, how are you feeling?"  
  
"Is it almost over?"  
  
"She wants to push but I didn't think she should until the ambulance was here or until she really couldn't stop herself." William explained and Babette nodded.  
  
"That's good. You can't force it, darl. You have to let the baby tell you when he's ready to come out."  
  
"It's a she. And she wants to come out _now_!"  
  
"Well we'll have to see about that won't we?" Babette looked from William to Luke. "Ok boys, out of the room while I see what's what here."  
  
Luke and William stepped out into the hall and closed the door behind them.  
  
"She's going to have that kid right here, in our house, isn't she?" Luke sighed.  
  
"Looks that way. Unless that damn ambulance decides to show up within the next hour or so."  
  
"The house isn't clean enough! She should be in a hospital with insanely crisp white sheets and people in stupid hats and masks…"  
  
"I agree. She should be. But she isn't, and it's not the first time a woman has given birth somewhere other than a hospital…"  
  
"She's not a woman, she's a girl. She's sixteen!"  
  
"I think it's fair to say that this qualifies her for womanhood, don't you?"  
  
Before Luke could say anything in response, Babette opened the door and stepped out into the hall with them.  
  
"It's comin'!" She exclaimed in a high-pitched whisper. "I see it. It'll be here any minute!"  
  
"Well… what do we do?!"  
  
"Nobody panic!" Babette instructed. "Nobody panic!" She repeated as she turned and headed back into the living room.  
  
"Nobody panic? Is she crazy?"  
  
"Luke…" William warned, following Babette into the room.  
  
He knelt down beside Lorelai, resuming his position of wiping her face with the cloth. Luke hesitantly walked over and watched for a moment, feeling useless and out of place. Awkwardly kneeling down beside her, he took her left hand in his and she smiled gratefully as she squeezed it.  
  
"Ok doll, you can push!" Babette encouraged enthusiastically. "Push!"  
  
"I'm trying!" Lorelai howled, gripping Luke's hand tightly.  
  
"You're doing great, just keep pushing sugar! I see the head, keep pushing!"  
  
"I am, I am!!!" She screamed, following it up quickly with "I can't, I can't!!!"  
  
"It's ok, just breathe and try again." William instructed, trying to stay calm.  
  
"I don't want to." She shook her head and let more tears fall. "Let it stay in. I don't want to push anymore."  
  
"It's too late for that now, darl. I see the head, she's comin', ready or not!"  
  
"No! Push her back in!" Lorelai insisted, causing even Luke to smile.  
  
"I don't think that's an option." Babette chuckled. "Just one more push!"  
  
Even though her head lolled from side to side in protest, Lorelai drew in a deep breath and pushed as Babette counted to ten out loud.  
  
"And one more…"  
  
"No, you said just one. No more!"  
  
"I think this is the last one…"  
  
"I don't believe you!" Lorelai cried, shaking her head defiantly.  
  
"Luke, sugar, run and get some towels. And do you have one of those little… rubber bulb thingies?"  
  
Luke frowned, staring at Babette as if she were speaking a foreign language.  
  
"You know!" She insisted, waving her hands around. "Those little things they put in the ear cleaning kits at the drug store. The little sucker things. Do you have one?"  
  
"Oh, yeah, in the bathroom."  
  
"Get it, clean it with hot water, and I mean really hot water darl, just don't melt it. And bring it here."  
  
Luke looked to his father, who looked just as confused and shrugged.  
  
"Ok, lets have that last push!"  
  
"Just one more?" Lorelai asked plaintively.  
  
"Just one more, sugar." Babette nodded. "Scream your lungs out if you want to, just push that baby out!"  
  
"Scream?" Lorelai looked at William for permission and he smiled and nodded. "Ok."  
  
From the other end of the house, Luke could hear Lorelai's screams and he hurried to finish gathering the things Babette had asked for, returning to the living room just in time to hear the baby's first cry. He froze in the doorway for a moment, the room was silent except for the baby's choked cries, as everyone held their breath and watched it in amazement.  
  
"Luke, sugar, bring that over her." Babette waved him over and he shook himself from his stupor and quickly made his way over.  
  
He and William watched as she gently cleaned the baby, using the tiny rubber bulb to suck fluid from it's nose and mouth.  
  
"What's her name?" Babette asked warmly.  
  
Lorelai opened her eyes slowly and struggled to lift her head from the pillows propping her up.  
  
"Lorelai. Lorelai Leigh." She almost whispered.  
  
"Well, Lorelai Leigh… I'd like you to meet Lorelai Victoria." Babette laughed to herself as she placed the squirming new born on Lorelai's stomach.  
  
Lorelai stared at the little pink baby, and the little pink baby opened its big, curious eyes and looked right back at her.  
  
"Hello, baby." She said softly, lightly stroking the wispy brown hair on its head and crying tears of joy and relief.


End file.
